Tomb Witchblade
by Siobhan2
Summary: Comic fans know that Sara Pezzini and Lara Croft sometimes work together... But what they don't know is that sometimes Ms Pezzini is really fed up with Ms Croft's line of work... And now, as the English tomb raiding aritrocrat arrives for vacation in NY,
1. It begins

disclaimer: I do not own Witchblade, Tomb Raider and any of the supporting cast of the series  
  
note: this story is primarily based on the comic series, not TV. Thus there occur some differences /mainly in the character's appearance/. The core of the story is based on the Witchblade-Tomb Raider crossover, done some time ago by Top Cow  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Sara Pezzini sneezed. The sharp movement of her body nearly threw her over the edge of the stone ledge, on which she was crouching. She regained her balance and cursed under her breath. Great! That was one of the reasons she hated jungle. Bugs! Mosquitoes, to be precise. They get everywhere, but they prefer eyes and nose. And it's really hard not to be stung, when one is wearing nothing more than a steel bikini. It was all Lara's fault! Their paths has crossed about half a year ago, in a ruined apartment in New York, where Lara has battled nothing less than a demon. Naturally to Sara it was a daily routine. With some exceptions. Anyway, Ms Croft took a liking to Ms Pezzini. She found her companionship 'useful' on many occasions, in many palaces. Tibet, Russia, China. And now, South Africa. Lara said that this is no jungle. 'Wait till you see the Amazon!'. Huh! Sara was nearly - no! - pretty sure, this is her last excursion with Ms Croft. Her mental health depended on it. Sound of gunshots came from the distance. Sara yawned. Lara was having wild fun, shooting at everything moving in the proximity. And all this for what? For an ancient piece of junk? Some older-than-times mumbo- jumbo? Jeez! Really; saving the world is one thing, satisfying one's needs another. Somebody should tell Ms Croft : 'Stop fooling around, get yourself a charity fund, put your money to something useful!'. Lara emerged from the jungle, unharmed except one shallow cut on her left forearm. She was holding a piece of stone and she was doing it in a manner a believer would carry a Bible. 'Coast is clear!', she shouted. 'No kidding', murmured Sara. 'Did you have a good time?' Lara shrugged. 'Well, as a matter of fact yes, I did. Why didn't you want to come along?' Sara jumped from the ledge and landed gracefully, as always. 'I think I don't fancy tombs. Any kind of tombs. And jungles. But I prefer jungles to tombs. Generally.' 'Right. Next time we'll do something on open air.' How somebody can be so blind-folded? Sara didn't know. 'Next time? You know, I think I'm going to.' 'Have a bath, long, warm, cleansing. How about that?' Lara used her free arm to pull Sara near, in a semi hug. 'I know, we both need a break from those dirty tombs and jungles. Let's take a vacation, shall we?' A vacation? Sara felt her stomach swirl. This doesn't sound good, oh, no. No.! 'I think I didn't see the city of New York properly the last time I visited it. I would love to get to know it better! And you, Sara, you would make an extraordinary guide!' Sara closed her eyes and sighted. Well. OK, Ms Croft will spend her vacation in Big Apple and leave. It will be only two weeks, three tops. She can survive. She'll manage. 'That sounds like. A good idea.' She replied, with a faded smile. Lara did not pay much attention to Sara's body language. 'Super! We'll have a rally great time! Girl talk, sheer fun, clubbing! Nothing straightens female friendship as much as girl talk! Like in that TV series of yours. How it was.' Sara wondered why didn't Witchblade warn her about this situation. It was life-threatening. 'Yes, I remember now! Xena!' This was going to be a log, long vacation. End of chapter 1 To be continued.  
  
OK, this is my first fan fiction ever. Be gentle. one more thing: I do like Lara Croft. It's just I like Sara better( 


	2. The city that never sleeps

Chapter2.  
  
Sara wanted to go home.  
  
Truly, deeply, with all her heart.  
  
Unfortunately, Lara Croft had other idea.  
  
It was the fifth club they've visited that night and Sara was getting very tired. She was even   
starting to think that she was getting too old for this sort of thing: loud music, cigarette's smoke and   
dumb guys hitting on her. Lara, on the other hand, had the time of her life. She ruled the dance floor.   
She played with the lads. She…  
  
Sara leaned back against her private piece of wall and took a deep sip of beer.  
  
'Good evening, Ian. You may stop lurking in the shadows.' She said, not looking at   
Nottingham at all. After all this time she has grown accustomed to his constant presence. 'What   
brings you to a place like this?'  
  
He even smiled. 'The same thing that brings you, I presume'  
  
'Touché!' She turned towards him from a sheer necessity of telling someone about her   
problems. Jake would never understand. He would consider this a blessing… Sara opened her   
mouth – and then the English party girl arrived, laughing, sweating, glamorous.  
  
'Oh, my! Sara! Aren't you going to introduce me to your handsome friend?…'  
  
Dozens of replies flew through Sara's head -- he's not my friend, introduce yourself, dumb-  
head, oh my, what do you mean 'handsome'? – instead she just sighted and said: 'Lara, this is Ian.   
Ian, this is Lara. Now excuse me, I need a drink.'  
  
Then she saw that she still held a glass of beer and anticipated Ian saying something like: 'But   
Lady Sara, You do have a drink.' or 'Let me order a drink for you, Lady Sara'. But he did not say   
any of these. Sara blinked. And then blinked again.  
  
Lara and Ian engaged in a party small-talk, as if she wasn't a world-famous adventure   
seeker and he a world notorious assassin. Sara eavesdropped some of their conversation.  
  
'Croft… Of THE Crofts?' Ian's deep voice, a bit astonished. Than Lara's giggle (Sara   
didn't know she CAN giggle). 'Why yes. Actually I am.' A giggle once again. 'Lady Croft, It's a   
pleasure to meet you; I have read all your books…'  
  
Sara turned around and headed for the bathroom. Naturally it was packed, so she just stood   
by the mirrors, waiting. She glimpsed in the nearest one. Just once, just to… Well. It was not that   
bad. The hair was a mess, but it usually was. Eyes… Lack of sleep does not help them, no Sir.   
Lips… After having eaten the whole lip-gloss, how they're suppose to look? Sara found herself   
checking her figure in front of the mirror in a girl's room. Breasts -- rather fine. Hips – will do… Will   
do for what? Jeez, Pezzini, get a hold of yourself!  
  
OK. Fine. A deep breath and everything will be all right. Too much beer. Too little sleep.   
Too much of Croft. Let Nottingham handle her for a few minutes, we'll see how he's going to look.   
Poor Ian. Sara even felt sorry for him.  
  
When she returned to the dance room, she could not spot neither Lara nor Ian anywhere.   
She searched through both levels of the club, peeked outside and finally asked the bartender, if he   
happened to see a tall, broody fellow in black and the dancing queen. He did.  
  
'They left together, five minutes ago. Friends of yours, sugar?'  
  
He got off with all of his teeth only because Sara was really fed up. And irritated. And she   
wanted to go home, take a bath, wash the cigarette smoke out of her messy hair, eat a truck of ice-  
cream, drink a bottle of vine and watch a dumb movie on the box. Or maybe just go to bed. She   
couldn't even make up her mind in such trivial matters.  
  
If this state was going to last a day longer, Sara Pezzini decided she would have to visit a   
shrink…  
  
End of chapter 2.  
  
Took me a lot of time to post, I know. I'll try to make better next time, Cross my heart…  
Sorry it took so long… 


	3. Out of a frying pan and into the fire

Chapter 3.  
  
  
  
The morning came too soon.  
  
Sara lifted up her eyelids just a little bit, the light of the sun was really hurting her eyes. And Croft's   
singing in the kitchen was hurting her ears.  
  
She did not know this song, but she was quite aback with the pop-culture. She turned in her bed,   
trying to cover the head with the blankets, but did not succeed. She sat straight and faced cheerful   
Lara that has just appeared in the bedroom doors, a mug of coffee in one hand.  
  
'Rise and shine!' the aristocrat exclaimed, handing the coffee to Sara.  
  
'Shine yourself.' Sara groaned. 'It's Sunday for Pete's sake! You don't have to wake me up at…' she   
saw the clock at her bedside and hesitated for a moment, than continued '…at 11:23.'  
  
'Sorry.' Lara giggled. It was scary to say the least.  
  
'And why the hell did you left without telling me a single word? Huh? Do you think it's nice to find   
yourself in the middle of a nightclub totally alone?' Sara took the coffee, but was not in the mood to   
treat it as a bribe and just leave out the subject of the past night.  
  
'Oh that?' Lara giggled once more. 'Ian got to know that it was my first recreational visit to the city, so   
he offered himself…'  
  
'Oh he did?'  
  
'…As a guide. Truly marvelous. I sight toured the "Dark Realm of the City". Quite exciting, not in   
comparison to tombs and lost temples, but still.'  
  
'And did… Ian… Kill anyone, perchance?' Sara smirked, taking a sip of coffee.  
  
'No. Why do you ask?' Lara looked really shocked. 'Frankly speaking, there were no people… Apart   
from a group of youngsters, but they dashed off as soon as they saw…'  
  
'I can imagine that.' Sara smiled to herself. Ian Nottingham, the Guide to the Dark Realm of the City.   
Great. World has gone astray. 'You had fun, generally speaking?'  
  
'Actually, yes. I'm planning to repeat it this evening.'  
  
Sara swallowed too large sip of hot coffee and was now chocking immensely. She calmed herself after   
about fifteen seconds. She looked straight at Lara.  
  
'With Nottingham?' Just a rhetorical question it was. Sara already knew the answer, but had to hear it   
straight from the Croft's mouth, so to say.  
  
'Naturally. You fancy to come?'  
  
Sara's very first reaction was to shake her head frantically, agree, agree, agree! Than came the bucket   
of ice-cold water and she calmed herself. The Witchblade on her wrist was surprisingly tranquil,   
concerning everything that was happening around.  
  
'No, thanks. I'll do some paperwork. Or maybe I'll prowl the dark streets on my own. Who knows,   
maybe Witchblade is going to be needed? You never know.' She sighted, proud of herself and the way   
she has held to her sanity. 'Now will you excuse me. I have to go to the bathroom…'  
  
  
After a week Sara had to admit that she started to feel a little bit stupid. Lara was obviously having the   
time of her life with Nottingham and it seemed like the omniscient Irons had nothing against it. He did   
not interfere.  
  
A part of Sara hoped he would. She could envisage Irons shouting at Nottingham for his   
incompetence, ordering him to stop getting involved with an English aristocratic tomb robber and get   
back to his official stalking of the wielder – but no. Nothing of that kind. Irons must have been either   
enjoying himself on the behalf of the existing situation, or had something at the back of his filthy little   
mind, some plan in store, just about to jump out and destroy Sara's not so perfect life.  
  
She waited in anticipation.  
  
And waited.  
  
And waited.  
  
Meanwhile Lara made Ian show her every interesting spot in the Big Apple, including the sewers   
('Really reminded me of the tomb of Sethi VII, so dark and full of rats!'). He took her to a restaurant.   
She took him to the cinema. They both took each other to long walks in the park. Sara just happened   
to be near every time they went out. How strange coincidences may be!  
  
And than, exactly one week after Lara first met Nottingham, Sara jumped out of a frying pan into the   
fire. Out of her own, free will. It all began when Lara said:  
  
'I finally got to know his boss, the charming Mr. Irons.'  
  
Sara felt as if someone has just hit her in the head with a hammer the size of Manhattan. Quite   
unwillingly, the Witchblade morphed into a simple gauntlet on her forearm, but she was wearing a   
sweater that day and Lara did not notice.  
  
'You've met Irons…?'  
  
'Nice gentleman. He invited me to a dinner tonight. Actually, he invited us both.'  
  
The hammer was not the size of Manhattan, but the whole New York and its closest suburbs.  
  
'You've accepted the invitation?'  
  
Lara seemed surprised. 'Why should I turn it down? He's such a polite man. He's Ian's boss…'  
  
'Maybe that's his problem?…' Sara sighted. What else about this man? Should I tell you that he's a   
power-mad guy and my favorite arch-nemesis? Nah, I'll keep it to myself for the time being.  
  
'What do you mean?' Lara asked frowning. Really, she could have been the best tomb raider on the   
planet, she could have a mind to solve ancient puzzles and long lost mysteries, but as far as the REAL   
life was concerned… No. Lara Croft was hopeless. Does she never read papers? Never mind now.  
  
The truth was, that if Irons got interested in Lara, he must have wanted something from her. The   
cause and effect, nothing happens without a purpose. Irons lured by the sheer attractiveness of Ms.   
Croft? Fat chance. The scum had something in mind and Sara had the perfect opportunity to find out   
what it was.  
  
And maybe walk right into his trap.  
  
Life's a risk, isn't it?  
  
'All right, Croft.' Sara threw the strands of her hair from her eyes with a graceful move of the head.   
'Let's do some shopping. We're not going to pay a visit to my old pall Irons in some old piece of rag!…'  
  
  
End of chapter 3  
  
Hey, if anyone likes it, please tell me? I'm going to continue anyway, so beware… 


	4. Irons

Chapter 4.  
  
The windows started at the floor and ended height at the ceiling, about four floors tall. The view was   
magnificent; New York after dark, full of life and light. Sara thought for a moment that Kenneth Irons   
must be spending most of his time in front of that tall windows, simply looking out, doing nothing else.  
  
Except maybe for planning how to take over the world, but one did not rule out the other.  
  
Lara was hopeless at buying sophisticated clothes; the only thing she got hold of in the store was a   
tank top with British flag on the front. Sara took the matters in her hands, after all she regarded herself   
as a girl with style. Certain kind of style, iron bikini to be exact, but she knew what can be worn at an   
official banquet and what not.  
  
Thus Lara was even more glamorous in a dark red, silky dress; very long and still very revealing. It   
had nearly invisible straps and a large cut on the right side, a cut that led almost to the hip, showing off   
stunning leg of Ms. Croft. Lara tied her hair in a free variation of a Japanese bun (Sara wondered if it's   
because Ian revealed to her that he actually had a 'soft spot' for anything Japanese...) and even put   
on a little bit of makeup. The whole result was more than good. Actually it was perfect.  
  
Sara chose for herself black. Her dress was short, just the tight length and had a bateau neckline in   
front, but a rather low cut at the back, going nearly as far as the loin. She did not know why she chose   
it; just a spur of the moment, she guessed. She let her hair loose but spend two hours in the bathroom   
trying to make it curl. She partly succeeded. The hair curled at the ends, staying straight at the roots.  
  
  
Kenneth Irons, handsome as hell, greeted them cheerfully, commented on their superb looks and   
invited to the dinner. The table waited by one of the tall windows.  
  
'A beautiful piece of jewelry, Ms. Pezzini.' Irons smirked, naturally charmingly.  
  
'Belonged to a friend of mine.' Sara put on the sweetest of her sweet smiles. 'But you probably already   
know that.'  
  
Nottingham, who actually escorted Lara and Sara from Pezzini's house in a nice, cozy limo, after   
helping the ladies take their seats stood motionless nearby. He too was clad in black.  
  
An hour into the dinner, just as Sara was about to try out the weird looking dish in front of her, Irons   
stopped talking the chit-chatty crap and got the point.  
  
'Ms. Croft... Have you ever heard of the city of Durkham?'  
  
'I came across some records... None of them too specific. Called once "the Atlantis on main land", I   
presume. No one actually knows where it was situated... Is that what you are asking about, Mr. Irons?'  
  
'Yes... What if I told you now, Ms. Croft, that I know the location of that lost city...?'  
  
Sara saw the light in Lara's eyes, as if someone has put a flashlight to the back of her empty head.   
The city of Durkham? Never heard of it. What do you want, Irons? What is there that you seek?   
Another ancient weapon?... Witchblade started to itch on Sara's wrist.  
  
'You do?' there was hope and anticipation in Lara's voice.  
  
'Some time ago I found... A reference concerning the location... Unfortunately none of the men I send   
there returned.'  
  
Sara smiled to herself.  
  
'What happened to them?' she asked, quicker than Croft opened her lips.  
  
Irons gave her his long, cautious look. The one she really, really hated.  
  
'They've vanished.'  
  
'Oh. And you didn't send your golden boy to pacify the territory? My, my, you're getting soft.' Sara's   
smile was no longer sweet. It was totally vicious.  
  
'I was waiting for someone... More into these things, so to say.' Kenneth answered with the same kind   
of smile, only his was more malicious. Witchblade wriggled in anticipation. It was like a dog on a leash,   
waiting to be let lose.  
  
'He was waiting for me.' Said Lara, rising from her seat. 'I am flattered, Mr. Irons. Really flattered.   
Now, what is there that is of such a great interest to you, Mr. Irons? From what I have seen and heard   
here I doubt it is the sheer need of exploration that drives you at present...'  
  
'Yes, what's there, Ken?' Sara took a glass of vine up to her lips. 'Another ancient weapon of mass   
destruction? The next Seal of Apocalypse? Some distant cousin of the Witchblade?...'  
  
Lara glanced at her, surprise in her eyes.  
  
'He knows.' Sara shrugged her shoulders. 'They both know. Did I tell you that Mr. Irons is the chief bad   
guy in town? Sorry, must have missed that.'  
  
Kenneth Irons started to laugh. Sara put back her vine glass on the table. She gave a quick look at   
Nottingham, standing few steps behind her back. He seemed a little bit uneasy, which was rather   
uncommon.  
  
'Now, that was good, Ms. Pezzini, really, really good.' Irons stopped laughing and now his face was   
grim and dark. 'The fact is, yes, I need Ms. Croft to get to the city of Durkham. I believe that she is the   
only living person apt to do so. With a little bit of help, naturally.'  
  
'I do not...' Lara started, but Irons just wouldn't let her continue.  
  
'...Need any help, Ms. Croft?' he twisted his head a little bit and the earring flashed a reflected light. 'I   
am sorry, but I cannot leave the matter in your hands only, however charming they may be.'  
  
'You have to make sure you'll get what you want from that Duruku-whatever?' Sara crossed her arms   
across the chest and looked right into Irons' eyes, which actually started flashing red.  
  
'Not necessarily. I'm just not so happy about leaving the fate of the mankind in the hands of a single   
woman. And it's Durkham.' Kenneth did not escape with his eyes and locked his gaze with Sara's.  
  
Sara felt as if she was definitely missing something very important.  
  
'What fate of the mankind?...' She asked slowly. Irons turned to Lara.  
  
'Ms. Croft, while reading materials on the city of Durkham, did you come across a passage describing   
the One who watches from darkness...?'  
  
Lara bit her lips. Sara was just about to remark that the one who watches from darkness is in fact in   
town and his name is Estacado, when Croft started to speak.  
  
'...viae urbis atrae erant...' She whispered. 'The streets of the city were covered in darkness... But that   
was a Latin translation of a Hebrew text...'  
  
'Which was a translation from a language no longer exists, Ms. Croft. From a very ancient language,   
older than... Probably older than Witchblade, if you need a point of reference. In original it should be   
read... "The streets of the city WERE darkness".'  
  
'Than the further note of the end of the world may...' Lara's eyes glowed with a mixture of excitement   
and astonishment. Sara suspected that Ms. Croft has for the first time met a man that could know   
more about ancient history than her. That was certainly a shock.  
  
'I understand the note was regarded as a prophecy of Durkham's end...' Kenneth waited till Lara   
nodded her head. 'In the original it refers to the real end of the world. Our world, to be precise. Even   
the time was given, the certain alignment of planets...'  
  
'Oh, please!' Sara waved her hand in the air. 'How many times do we have to hear of the planets'   
alignments? Whenever something apocalyptic happens, the planets align... Blah, blah, blah. Now wait   
a minute! Such thing is suppose to be happening every thousand years or so!...'  
  
'Ms. Pezzini, will you stop demonstrating to us your striking ignorance and keep your precious mouth   
shut?' Irons' voice was cold as dead man's hands. 'What makes you think that the said thousand   
years had not passed yet? Are, in fact, not passing as we speak?'  
  
Dead silence fell. Sara could hear her heart pound. Irons walked towards her around the table,   
stopped a step or so from her chair.  
  
'This combination of heavenly spheres occurs not in a thousand years time span but in two thousands.   
Something had happened before that prevented the darkness from creeping out. The texts do not tell.   
What is mentioned, however, is the Orb. Whatever that may be.'  
  
Lara smiled. 'And You are asking me to save the day? Just like that?'  
  
'I can't do it on my own.' Kenneth answered with disarming simplicity.  
  
'And it's all that you want?' Lara looked into Irons' red eyes.  
  
'That is all.'  
  
'I don't think I believe you.'  
  
'Will you risk the world?'  
  
By this time everyone already knew Lara's answer.  
  
* * * * *  
  
...Before they left, Sara turned to Kenneth Irons and asked him one question.  
  
Lara was in Irons' library, studying the materials he has gathered on Durkham; Nottingham stood few   
meters away, pretending to - or maybe truly - not paying attention to what was being said.  
  
'Why? Why someone like you suddenly wants to save the world from impending doom?'  
  
Irons smiled and it was a nice smile; a smile a parent gives to his or her child when it ask a nonsense   
question.  
  
'Oh, Sara...' he started and lifted his hand touching her cheek, caressing her lips with his thumb.   
Instantly, Witchblade swerved forward, but Sara held it back. She just took a step from Irons and from   
his surprisingly gentle touch.  
  
'Oh, Sara.' He continued, still smiling. 'What's the fun in ruling over a pile of rubble? You have to have   
a world to be its master, my precious, precious wielder...'  
  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
End of Chapter 4.  
  
Now, explanation:  
Durkham - stupid name, but the first one that came to my mind.  
  
The alignment - everybody's using it everywhere to explain mystical apocalyptic things, so I thought:   
"Why not?"  
  
The darkness creeping - not Jackie Estacado this time. He may be doing a little cameo later on, but   
I'm not sure yet. This darkness is something else, but I will not tell you what yet!  
  
Irons' behavior towards Sara in the end - don't worry. It's just my twisted fantasy. Irons in the comic is   
so damn sexy... And evil. Now, that's a combination!  
  
  
OK, hope you liked it... It finally begins to speed up, hopefully I will manage to finish it sometime in the   
future... But not yet. Not yet... 


End file.
